Thursday, September 14, 2017

I make a shit ton of pastries every day, but don't bake much at home anymore. sad!
my daily work attire is: look as baggy and grungy as possible
I feel like a mangey lil kitchen rat ALL THE TIME and i think it's fucking with my head

well, these are some photos from stuff.
and some from Vietnam.

hope you are doing great and enjoying your days on earth and making the most out of your life or not.

I've struggled in lots of areas. energy, motivation, overwhelming mental paralysis. struggled with being nice to myself and treating a body the way bodies should be treated. I realized how hard I feel things. whatever things. how personally I take everything, criticism, scolding. how my head hangs onto those things with a claw grip. I've struggled with topics of mental health, with different diagnoses, with medications, with self-medication.

and honestly, that's the reason I slipped away from here. at whatever point, something had shifted in me. my writing was different, my voice had morphed. and it felt uncomfortable to make such a switch, to introduce such a swampiness to this thing I had worked on for years, the lighthearted place I created and loved.

I began to crave something new, a fresh start. somewhere I could feel free to be a depressing cynical little shit.

this leads us to wolfie cake. I started it with no expectations, and urged myself to a place of comfortable un-censorship.

Monday, February 29, 2016

food blog culture has gotten annoying right? i'm ready for the rebellion.
way over the uber styled stuff
not every dish that comes out of your kitchen requires a whole photoshoot with fancy spoons and items stored in prop closets.
nah, playa. that's not real life. real kitchens have shit all over the place.

i'm trying to embrace the messy chaos. as long as the light's good and there aren't bugs crawling in the background, then how bad could the picture be?

i make banana bread over and over again because i always want to eat more.
i know that internet has 2 billion recipes for banana bread, but i don't care. this one is mine and it was goooooood.
a simple banana bread made with buttermilk, some oats, blueberries and walnuts folded in. i topped it with a line of raw sugar and a line of sesame seeds for absolutely no reason.

this loaf was moist business. like, perfection moist.
finished in 2 days between 2 people, moist.

POUND IT BROHEIMIANS

Oat Blueberry Banana Bread

1 3/4 cups flour (227g)

1 tsp baking soda

1/2 tsp kosher salt

1/3 cup rolled oats

2 eggs

1/3 cup buttermilk (80g)

1/2 cup vegetable oil (110g)

1 cup mashed bananas

1 1/4 cup sugar (250g)

1/2-1 tsp vanilla extract (opt)

3/4c-1c frozen blueberries

1/2 cup walnut pieces, toasted

preheat oven to 325 degreesF. grease a 9x5" loaf pan. mix dry ingredients in bowl and whisk. mix wet ingredients (eggs - vanilla) in another larger bowl. add dry ingredients to wet and use a spatula to stir just til combined. fold in the blueberries and walnuts. scrape into pan and bake for 1 hr and 10-20 minutes - just start checking after an hour.

Thursday, December 17, 2015

offering myself as the sacrifice.
i wish this could be my linkedin picture.
but that would mean signing up for getting daily mom-calls - "please julia, you have to change the photo on your linkedin. this is not the place for that, i beg you. it's just not right.'

i hate linked in

don't you just wanna punch everyone's profile picture in the face?
not in a "i seriously want to injure every person' way, more of a 'haha you tool' light punch in the face

Thursday, October 1, 2015

we don't need no dumbass white picket fences.
we do need water and pillows and smiling.

we don't need $8 beers or ridiculous things on top of cakes,
but guurl, we want them.

(i made this cake for a bachelorette party.)

the innards were strawberry vanilla cake + chocolate whipped cream, and the cake skin was vanilla bean swiss meringue buttercream. a neapolitan type mash up, if you will. (will you?!)
kind of like this one from way back, but 100% schmancier.

in other news, i just mopped the floor and watered every plant. someone come give me a high five.

recipes:

use any simple vanilla cake and load it with fresh strawberries before you bake it

Tuesday, September 8, 2015

whoa whoa whoaaaa, hey!
i've just concluded the 2015 summer wedding madness lineup.
several of my loveliest friends got married in these past two months, so pretty much my liver and my bank account are all like, Fuck You.

but it's been such fun, and all worth it, and i've put those chicken cutlet boob things on twice now.

i got back from new york, after a 6 hour flight next to a girl who had food poisoning. that was unfun.
my college roommate whom i lived with in the same room for 3 years got married to the dude who used to be her chemistry study pal, and then they eventually professed their obvious love to each other, putting me in the position of Head 3rd wheel.

this was the first wedding i've ever been in, if you don't count the time when i was 4 and the only flower girl who forgot to drop the flowers.
what's that saying? 'once a nervous weirdo, always a nervous weirdo?'

it's cool though, we have alcohol.

the festivities were so fun and they were so cute and she looked so insanely beautiful and bridal.
when i talked to her a few days before the wedding, her main concern was that people would be scared to talk to the bride, because everyone knows they only get like 2 minutes, so what do you say!? you've gotta cram in anything you've got, so it's basically: Hi! You look so incredible! This is so amazing, the ceremony was so beautiful, look at this place! We're having so much fun. Ah! Well...how nice. You two....Just so happy to be here...

here's the problem when you're tight with the bride. she's finally over by our table and we get to say some words to each other! i give her a hug and make weird faces at her and try to say a thing, and i can see that it is just distraction overload in her eyes. she smiles and says "hang on, one minute" and THEN she goes and talks to another friend. (!#ohnoshedidnt)

cue tequila voice telling me to get worked up and butt hurt,
but then my rational voice comes in and is like dude, chill, you can't be mad at the bride.

and then i stayed in manhattan for a bunch of days after and everything was great
(except for the fact that my entire system shuts off in 'hot/humid as balls' weather.
i have 20 separate layers of dried sweat covering my body, i complain, i don't process sentences as quickly..)

but other than that, new york, your streets make me feel alive and i love you.